


Loose Ankles

by candy_and_writing



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Pre-Knives Out (2019), Ransom Drysdale Being an Asshole, Ransom Drysdale's Sweater, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23445964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candy_and_writing/pseuds/candy_and_writing
Summary: The night of Harlan Thrombey's party, Harlan tells Ransom he's cutting his family out of his inheritance. Not one of them is getting a single red dime. But, still seeing potential in his grandson, Harlan offers Ransom a deal.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Original Female Character(s), Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 212





	Loose Ankles

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for imaginesyouneveraskedfor Pre-Code Writing Challenge. This is based on the movie Loose Ankles, where a woman must marry well in order to inherit her grandmother's fortune, but her only taker is a well-known playboy. I put my own little twist on it. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated and loved! If you want to follow me on Tumblr, my username is @candy-and-writing
> 
> Enjoy!

Unbelievable. Un- _fucking_ -believable. 

Ransom sped down the road, rage seething inside him as he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Harlan _fucking_ Thrombey just kicked his family to the curb, his eldest grandson included.

Marta _fucking_ Cabrera was inheriting his fortune. Harlan's Brazilian nurse. Jesus, this all felt like a bad joke.

But, of course, Harlan wouldn't just stop there. No, he wanted to make Ransom suffer.

If he could settle down and establish himself, 'find a nice girl' as Harlan so blatantly described it, he would give Ransom back his cut of the inheritance. It made Ransom's blood boil just thinking about it. Ransom Drysdale didn't date. He didn't do domesticity. The old man knew that. 

But if it meant he could get his stupid money back, he would do whatever it took. As he pulled into the bar, taking a deep breath, he took his keys out the ignition. He needed a drink if he was going to do this. 

\--

Ransom sat at the bar, nursing his fourth whiskey. There were a couple girls who looked appealing, all of which Harlan would never approve of. He fished the cherry out of his now-empty glass, waving at the bartender for another drink.

Drumming his fingers on the wood top bar, Ransom caught eyes with a young woman in a booth across the room. You were young, with red painted lips that contrasted beautifully to the black dress you wore. It was modest, the neckline tickling your collarbone and the hem of the dress reaching your knees. A pair of flats donned your feet. You quickly looked away, cheeks flushed and Ransom smiled. You were perfect. Three other people sat in the booth with you, another girl and two guys. You sipped on a glass of rose-tinted wine, your eyes dodging back to Ransom every so often, darting away as soon as you saw he was already looking at you.

Ransom waited almost three hours. The other girl had left with one of the guys, leaving you with the second guy. You didn't look like you were enjoying yourself—you were fiddling with your thumbs under the table and tapping your foot, smiling awkwardly as the guy laughed at something he said. Something about his dad's boat. He not-so-subtly kept looking at girls' asses as they pasted their table, ignoring whatever you were trying to say.

Ransom heard the guy say he was going to the bathroom. Five minutes later Ransom saw him leaving with his arm wrapped around some girl's waist. You saw it, too. Your face fell. You got up and put a few bills on the table, walking up to the bar. You sat a few seats from him, waving down the bartender.

"Can I get an Amaretto Sour?" you asked, your voice soft and quiet. The bartender nodded as he walked away, grabbing a bottle of Amaretto. You sighed, resting your hand on your chin. Ransom got up, moving to sit in the chair next to you.

"Hey." He smirked, earning himself a pair of wide eyes and flustered cheeks.

"Um—hi." You gave him a tentative smile. You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink, taking a quick sip.

"I saw what happened," Ransom said. "That guy's a dick."

You let out a breathless chuckle. "Yeah, he was. That's what I get for trusting my best friend's boyfriend, though."

Ransom smiled, downing the last of his whiskey. He let out a breath, setting his glass down. He watched as you played with the string of pearls hanging around your neck.

"I'm Ransom Drysdale," he smirked. You told him your name, a sheepish smile spreading over your lips. He repeated your name, testing the way it felt on his tongue. "Can I buy you another drink?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "I'd like that."

You were drunk by the time the bartender kicked you two out. Ransom invited you home with him, his hand resting on your thigh. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, the blush trailing down your neck and to your ears. Ransom smirked at how cute you were, innocent in the way that had his cock throbbing.

"Yeah," you said. "Sure."

\--

Ransom pushed you up against the door of his house, his lips moving against yours possessively. You whimpered as his hips rutted up against yours, Ransom thrusting his tongue into your mouth. He struggled to fit his key into the lock, turning the doorknob and roughly shoving you two through the door, kicking it shut with his foot.

Ransom grabbed your ass and squeezed, moaning into your mouth. You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist, your flats falling off your feet. He carried you up a flight of stairs, his lips working over yours. He stepped into his bedroom and dropped you on his bed, watching you bounce before he pulled his sweater over his head.

He leaned over you, kissing you as he threaded his fingers through yours, pushing them into the mattress on either side of your head. He kissed down your jaw, sucking a dark mark into your neck. He grinded his hips against your center, a gasp leaving your mouth. 

Ransom pushed the skirt of your dress up past your hips, revealing your lacy underwear. Ransom groaned, leaning down to kiss your center through your panties as he massaged your thighs. You sighed, your skin tingling. He swiftly tore the lace down your legs, his mouth latching onto your clit. You squeaked, hips jerking off the bed. He licked a long stripe up your intimate flesh, focusing the tip of his tongue on your bud, earning himself a strangled whine from you.

He devastated you with his mouth, lips latching onto your little bundle of nerves as he pressed his index finger to your entrance. He pushed inside just a little and you gasped. Ransom began to pump his finger in and out of you slowly, his tongue working your clit. 

"R—Ransom!" 

Ransom moaned against your flesh, sending vibrations up through your clit. He pushed another finger into you, your thighs clenching around his shoulders as you cried out. The pads of his fingers pushed up against your walls, pressing against a certain spot inside of you that had you choking on a moan.

You were burning up, sweat coating your forehead. The coil in your belly was curling impossibly tight, your body on fire as Ransom teased your bundle of nerves. You began to babble, endless pleas of begging until your voice cracked. Ransom smirked against you, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit and that was all it took. The coil in your stomach snapped and you screamed, your thighs trembling as your back arched off the bed. 

Ransom rode you from your high until it was just too much. You tried to pull away from him, overstimulated. You whined, your voice cracking, and Ransom finally seemed to get the message. He pulled away, his chin slick with your juices as he hooked his finger under your chin, bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, overtly earthy in a way that had you moaning into his mouth.

Ransom pulled away from you, placing a quick peck on your lips. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

Still blissed-out, you sighed in response, letting Ransom unzip the side of your dress and pull it over your head. He quickly discarded your bra, marveling in your body. He unbuttoned his trousers, shucking them off his legs along with his boxers.

Your breath stuttered in your lungs as Ransom's length bobbed against his stomach. His tip was painfully red, leaking precum down his shaft. You swallowed, watching as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and pumping his fist up and down his length. He let out a shaky breath, bending down to kiss the valley of your breasts. 

The head of his cock poked at your entrance. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, pushing himself into you slowly. Even after an orgasm, you were still unbelievably tight, clutching Ransom like a vice.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking tight."

You preened as he bottomed out. Ransom grunted, wrapping your legs around his hips and hugging you close to his chest, carefully rocking his hips up. His thrusts started slow and deep, keeping his pace steady until you're writhing and mewling for more. His hand reached up and squeezed your breast, rolling his thumb between his thumb and forefinger as he sped up his pace, pounding into you in the most delicious way.

"Fuck!" you cry when Ransom hits a spot deep inside of you, his girth brushing against your walls. "Oh, God! Ransom!"

His hot breath hit your jaw as he moaned into your ear. "You feel so good, babygirl. So fucking good for me."

His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down slightly just below your jaw. You gasped, feeling your airway restricted. Your walls fluttered against Ransom's cock, causing him to groan and tighten his grip on your throat. He cursed into your ear, hips bucking into you. 

You couldn't breathe. You squirmed violently underneath his grip, whining pathetically as Ransom slammed into you punishingly. The little tears in your eyes and the little noises you make brought something out of him—he squeezed your throat tighter, watching as you writhed beneath him. 

You came with a strangled shout, seizing up and convulsing around Ransom's length. Ransom dug his fingers into the divots of your hips so hard you were sure they were going to leave bruises. With a growl, Ransom pulled out of your slick heat, hot cum coating your stomach.

Ransom released your throat, crashing down on the bed beside you. You wheezed almost painfully, turning on your side as you caught your breath. With a huff of breath, Ransom pushed himself up, opening a door that was adjacent to the bed. You closed your eyes, still coming down from your high. Ransom came back into the room a moment later with a damp rag in hand, pressing it lightly against your stomach.

You hummed. "What're you doin'?"

"Cleaning you up, baby, just relax." 

You rested your head back against the pillow, letting him wipe you clean. You were half asleep by the time Ransom laid down next to you, pulling the covers over the two of you. When his arm wrapped around your torso, his heat drawing you closer to sleep. 

Ransom listened to your soft and even breaths, something tingling in his chest. He knew he wasn't going to kick you out in the morning. Something about you was different. He hadn't had sex that good in a _long_ time—the way you let him take control and do whatever he wanted. Most girls he brought him were needy and loud, but your cute little noises went straight to his cock. Just thinking about it made his dick twitch.

You snuggled up against him, flipping over and burying your face in his chest. 

Ransom was fucked.

\--

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" you asked, fiddling with your thumbs in the passenger seat of Ransom's Beemer. "What if they don't like me?"

Ransom sighed out your name. "Will you stop worrying? They'll love you. And if they don't, they can't fuck off. The only thing that matters is that I love you."

You and Ransom had been dating for almost a year. He hadn't talked to Harlan since the night of his birthday. It turned out you were an assistant at a publishing firm in Boston and with a little pushing from you, he published a best-selling novel. He had done everything his granddad had wanted: he established himself _without_ the help of his family's money _and_ he'd found a girl. A girl he isn't planning on letting go. Maybe that was why he hadn't told Harlan about you—he was worried that you'd think you were disposable, that you were just a means to an end.

It was Harlan's birthday, exactly a year since Harlan had given Ransom the ultimatum. He was surprised how excited his family was to meet you, certain they had an ulterior motive. 

He pulled into his grandad's driveway, killing the engine. He sighed, leaning back into his seat.

"Listen," he said. You turned to look at him, concern flashing behind your eyes. "My family is. . . a lot. Just don't let them get to you, okay? They're assholes."

You smiled. "I know, Ran. Just calm down, everything will be okay."

Ransom leaned over and cupped your cheek, bringing you in for a kiss. "You're amazing."

"Let's go inside, okay?" You grabbed the pan of lemon bars you made and waited for Ransom to get out of the car and let him open your door for you. 

Ransom opened the front door for you and you were immediately met with shouting. Ransom helped you out of your coat and hung it up on the coat rack by the door, rolling his eyes as Linda's shrill voice echoed through the house.

"C'mon, I'll show you to the kitchen."

You set your pan on a beautiful granite countertop as Ransom opened a cupboard. He fished out some expensive brand of cookies just as someone stomped into the kitchen.

"Ransom?" It was Richard. "Hey, when did you get here?"

"Two minutes ago, you'd know that if you weren't all busy screaming at each other," Ransom retorted, popping a cookie into his mouth. Richard frowned, about to open his mouth when he noticed you hiding behind Ransom.

"Hello, you must be Ransom's girlfriend?" You nodded, smiling at him. You told him your name, stepping around the countertop to shake his hand. "Well, why don't you come into the living area and meet the family, we've all been dying to meet you."

\--

Dinner was loud. You were sitting between Ransom and Ransom's cousin—Meg. Meg kept picking fights with her other cousin, Jacob, who was always on his phone. Linda was yelling at Joni, Meg's mother, who was going on about her Instagram.

Ransom kept mostly quiet, laughing when he found something amusing. His hand had taken place on your thigh, complimenting you on your lemon bars. You smiled at him, nibbling on a carrot. 

After Linda served Harlan's birthday cake, everyone moved to the living area. You took the chance to refill your wine glass, quickly disappearing to the kitchen. You found an expensive red wine and filled your glass halfway, taking a small sip. 

"Hello, my dear." You jumped, turning around quickly. Harlan Thrombey stood a few feet away from you, holding a piece of cake in his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's alright," you smiled. "I just needed a refill. I'm not hiding in here, or anything."

"I'd understand if you were." Harlan chuckled. "I love my family, but they are. . . a lot. Ransom seems to be doing well, uncharacteristically so."

"Yeah," you laughed breathlessly. "He. . . he was really worried about bringing me here. He doesn't talk about his family a lot, and when he does, it's you—I think he was worried about his parents being judgemental."

Harlan nodded. "Ransom has done well for himself. I hear he's writing a second book?"

"He is, started working on it a couple weeks ago."

"And he has a beautiful young woman. I'm glad he finally managed to get his life straightened out."

You smiled. "Me too."

"Hey." Ransom entered the kitchen, carefully walking past Harlan. "You disappeared, I got worried. Everything okay?"

You nodded. "I just needed a refill."

Linda started shouting for Harlan from the living room. Harlan rolled his eyes, excusing himself before he left the kitchen. Ransom looked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

"What was he talking to you about?"

"Relax, Ransom. He was just telling me how proud he was of you."

You watched as Ransom let out a breath of relief. You two left the kitchen and sat on a couch in the living area, listening in shock as Richard and Joni discussed politics. At some point during the night, Harlan called Ransom into his study. He kissed your cheek before he got up, closing the door to the study behind him.

\--

"What did Harlan want to talk to you about?" you asked Ransom, pulling on Ransom's old sweater. It had shrunk in the wash and you stole it before Ransom could throw it out.

"He just talked about you, mostly," Ransom told you. "Said he was proud of me for growing up, for finding someone like you, etcetera. Just stuff like that."

You smiled, crawling onto the bed to kiss his cheek. "I really like your family. They're. . . eccentric."

Ransom laughed. "Babe, they're a bunch of dicks. Don't try to sugarcoat it."

You sighed. "I like Harlan. He doesn't deal with anyone's bullshit."

"That he does not. Now, come here." Ransom grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, kissing you. You threaded your fingers through his short hair, moaning into his mouth. He quickly flipped you onto your back and straddled your hips, pressing your hands to the mattress. You laughed, Ransom leaning down to kiss you again. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
